Two Men in Suits
by J. Avery
Summary: On top of the roof, in formal attire, Mordecai tells Rigby a secret he already knows. Mordecai/Benson, Mordecai and Rigby friendship.


_**A/N: In a storyline totally independent from WSF. It just seemed like the sweetest idea without turning Rigby into a wuss and I have to write it now before I forget.**_

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Margaret had a way about her that always conned Rigby into doing whatever she wanted. She called it "love". Rigby called it "brainwashing".

This time, the idea of a themed New Year's party didn't seem that bad. So Rigby played along with the whole 60's theme (and he had to admit, he looked_ fucking_ fantastic in a suit) but, as expected, found himself ridiculously bored. It was only Margaret's close friends, who were surprisingly snobby, and the gang, who had to be there because the party was at the park. Tolerating the snotty atmosphere no more, Rigby went up to the roof, which was the usual place he escaped to when he was dying of boredom.

He looked out at the trees and the lawn, and just thought about the three hundred and sixty-five days he spent picking dog crap off of it. A year? Really? To Rigby, it hadn't felt like a year had passed. A few months maybe. But a year just seemed so long ago.

"Mind if I interrupt your pensive staring for a sec, dude?"

Rigby turned his head to the left of the roof. The dark of night made it difficult to see, but he could easily recognize his best friend's voice. Rigby smiled weakly at Mordecai, though he probably couldn't see it.

"I don't know what 'pensive' means, but sure man."

Mordecai was in a gray suit that looked quite flattering on him (but not as good as Rigby looked. Obviously). He stepped onto the roof and grinned as he sat down, next to his raccoon friend.

"Hey dude. Still romancing robins I see," Mordecai nudged Rigby with his elbow.

Rigby said, dreamily, "Three years officially when the clock strikes twelve," Mordecai made an amused face at Rigby's uncharacteristically honest display of affection, and Rigby tried to do some damage control. "I mean... Three years of sandwiches in bed and hot 'Leave Me Alone' sex. Good times, bro. Good times."

"And you go and ruin a nice moment," said Mordecai shaking his head and chuckling.

Mordecai's laughter died down, and he started to shift in a way that said he did not want to be there. The change in mood was instantaneous and threatening; hitting Rigby in the face. Mordecai kept awkwardly moving: Hands on his knees. Hands not on his knees. Knees against his chest. His legs laid straight out. Fixing his tie. Loosening his tie. Hands through his hair. Hands drumming on his thighs.

"Are you okay, dude?"

"I'm good," Mordecai answered too quickly. "I'm real good."

Rigby looked at his friend sideways. "You sure?"

"Yeah!" Mordecai laughed. He nodded slightly as he averted Rigby's suspicious gaze.

Bringing up how weird he was acting only made Mordecai act weirder. So Rigby tried to think of something to distract them both from the uncomfortable lull.

"How's the newspaper gig going?"

The usual light that filled Mordecai's eyes when he talked about his new job at the local (whiny hipster) newspaper was subdued, and instead of a long ramble about the bands and the new agey sculptor Rigby just had to meet, Mordecai responded with a lame, "It's great dude. It's going great."

"Oh... Um. O-okay then," Rigby blinked a few times.

What the hell was wrong with him? Was he angry? Was Mordecai angry at him? What did he do? Rigby didn't do anything!... Lately...

A loud applause came from below, through the open windows. Pops had just finished a song on his baby grand, and the guests clapped while telling the lollipop gentleman how talented he was. High pitched squeals of delight came from Pops, who Rigby imagined in his all white suit (along with a white top hat to go with it) taking a bow.

"So," Mordecai breathed out harshly. After two minutes of nothing, Rigby coughed to get Mordecai to speak again. "Okay. Okay. So."

Mordecai stared straight ahead. His eyes focused on the lit fountain. It was beginning to get darker. Rigby furrowed his eyebrows.

"So. So what?" said Rigby, getting annoyed at Mordecai's odd behavior.

"So... I," Mordecai stopped himself. He rubbed his eyelids. Rigby heard him mumble something he couldn't understand and then clear his throat.

"Dude, I swear to God if you say 'so' one more _friggin'_ time..." Rigby joked, and thank God, because he felt more comfortable and it seemed to ease Mordecai up some and they had to crack jokes or else the tension would eat them up alive.

Mordecai inhaled. Why was he so nervous? "I, uh, you know... I like peanut butter," Mordecai stated.

"... What the hell?"

"I like peanut butter, y'know? It's pretty awesome."

Rigby donned a stupid grin. "Dude. You're fucking_ high as a kite_!"

"No! I'm going somewhere with this, dude," Mordecai's tone told Rigby he was serious, and the raccoon shut himself up (even if he thought Mordecai was totally high as giraffe's balls). "Well, yeah, I eat peanut butter 'cause it's great and all. But I've always been... 'interested' in chocolate."

"I guess, man..." said Rigby, even more convinced of Mordecai's intoxication.

"And... I always knew this about myself. But I ignored it and... pretended it didn't exist, because dudes aren't supposed to go around eating chocolate left and right. Right?"

"Gotcha..." Rigby said, the dots finally connecting. "Mordecai, it's oka-"

"But I... I recently decided to try some chocolate. And it was..." Mordecai sounded breathless. "It was amazing Rigby. It was so fucking_ amazing_. I fell in love with be... Being near chocolate. And I found myself wanting to eat it everyday," Mordecai spoke as if he was recalling the events of a dream. "And I thought about chocolate while I was eating peanut butter. And chocolate makes me feel... I'm so happy, Rigby. At first it scared the shit out of me because of what it meant about me and what everyone would say... Of what my_ dad_ would say-"

"Mordecai. Mordecai shut up for a sec-"

"But when I just... Let myself _love_ chocolate, none of that other bullshit mattered. Though sometimes chocolate can be a little bitter, I still love it. And I really don't want you to freak out. 'Cause... Even though I love chocolate, I'm still me. And. And, I don't want you to hate me or treat me any different. 'Cause I think our friendship is stronger than that. And after all-"

"Mordecai!" Rigby shouted. He grabbed his friend's shoulders and shook him around to drive his point home. Mordecai blinked a few times to refocus his eyes. "Dude I get it."

"Are you sure? I'm... I'm not talking about actual chocolate, Rigby."

"I know."

"I'm in love with a person, Rigby."

"Dude. I know."

Mordecai frowned slightly. As if revealing super secret government plans, Mordecai grabbed onto Rigby's shoulders. "I'm in love with a **dude**, Rigby," he cringed, expecting Rigby to explode in anger or retreat in disgust. The raccoon man simply shot Mordecai a pointed look.

"I knew about you and Benson, dude."

It had never occurred to Rigby that Mordecai could be so overly dramatic. It was annoying to be around someone so friggin' immature.

Mordecai said, as if he were the smallest thing on the planet, "You did? You _do_?"

"Well... yeah."

"How?"

How? Well Jesus. Rigby didn't have enough time. But there was one moment that really confirmed it for him; that really slapped him in the face and told him that that shit between his friend and his boss was real.

"I think... I saw the way he looked when you quit," Rigby said, the memory rushing to him like it happened just yesterday. "After that I just... knew."

Benson told everyone in the following meeting that he needed them to look for a replacement as soon as possible. But he wouldn't mention Mordecai by name; it was as if Benson was pretending he didn't exist. He finished up the meeting and locked himself in his office for the next two weeks.

The looks he'd make at Mordecai's name reminded Rigby of the sappy ones he'd see in the movies Margaret forced him to watch. The looks that screamed, "heartbroken".

"Oh," Mordecai didn't say anything else. Rigby didn't know why, but he got the sense that Mordecai was angry. Not at him though, more like angry at the memory Rigby had brought up. Or maybe at himself. "You never said anything."

"I don't care who you have relationships with, dude! And what the hell was I supposed to say? 'Hey Mordecai when are ya gonna get around to inviting me and Margaret over Benson's for eggplant lasagna?'"

Mordecai furrowed his eyebrows. "I... you totally lost me."

"One of Mags' psychobabble books said something about not forcing people to reveal secrets before they're ready. Y'know, they make some sense every once and awhile."

"Huh."

"I know, right?"

They said nothing. What do you do when someone comes out to you and you already know? Rigby wanted to get out of his suit. It felt stiff on him and the conversation (they needed to have it, he understood, but he felt so wound up by it) made him squirm a bit.

Mordecai and Rigby spoke at the same time, laughed at themselves, and Mordecai gestured for Rigby to go first. "How come you're telling me now?"

"I wanted to tell you from the beginning!" said Mordecai, louder than he intended. "The first time me and Benson-"

Rigby grimaced. "Dude, I'm all for acceptance but I don't need the details."

"Kissed. The first time we _kissed_, you ass," Mordecai smirked, "I went to sleep wanting to wake you up and tell you what happened. But it was all happening so fast and I was freaking out," Mordecai scratched the back of his head. "And since I just moved in with him I wanted you to be... involved."

"I hope that's not an invitation to a threesome," Rigby half-joked. Mordecai raised an eyebrow, and Rigby raised an eyebrow right back.

Out, near the park entrance, Mordecai just barely saw someone he assumed was Benson standing next to his car. He wore a black suit made especially for him, tight and thin for his limbs. He kept looking up every five minutes to see if Mordecai was coming. Mordecai would come, of course. Always for Benson.

He'd never tell anyone, but sometimes the fear comes back. It tells him (in his father's voice, appropriately) that quitting his job at the park and Benson and being happy was a mistake. All of it was one big damn mistake. And telling Rigby meant losing a friend, maybe.

But it also could mean having someone to yell "FUCK YOU" to his fears.

"I love him, Rigby. Things are getting serious," Mordecai looked dead in Rigby's eyes for the first time during the entire conversation. "I sorta need my bro?"

Mordecai raised his fist up and towards Rigby. He was smiling, but he looked worried. How could he think Rigby wouldn't be there for him? How could he think Rigby could hate him? Rigby lifted his fist and pounded it with Mordecai's.

"And a bro you shall receive. Just no more secrets, you douche."

"Can do, dickface." said Mordecai, looking at his wrist and jumping up. "Shit. I have to go."

Rigby stood up as Mordecai made his back to the ladder. "Already? The party's not over though! And you can't leave me with these highbrow buttlickers!"

"I know but. Benson, man," Mordecai shyly explained.

"Fine. Say no more," Rigby waved his friend away and sat down with a huff. "I can tell when a guy is whipped."

Mordecai went halfway down the ladder when he came back up and warmly smiled at Rigby. "Dude, thanks for being cool with this. I don't know why I thought this talk would be a disaster."

Rigby crossed his arms. "Yo of little fate."

"'Ye of little faith', Rigby."

"Exactly."

Mordecai laughed and climbed off the ladder, and Rigby watched him walk to the car. He could barely make out a round head in the distance. Mordecai made it to where apparently Benson was waiting and after a brief, inaudible rant from the gumball machine Mordecai held Benson by the head and kissed him.

Rigby saw the way their bodies melted together, and how Mordecai moved his hands to bring them closer and closer and pushed Benson to the driver's door. He totally just... got in there. Like seriously. His tongue was making Benson's mouth its bitch. It was like the gayest episode of Mad Men ever. And maybe Rigby lied a little when he said he didn't care (he did, a lot) or that he was cool with it. Because it bothered him. Not as much back when he first realized what was happening, but still. And the reality was that _two grown men_ in suits were totally making out against a mini-van.

And it kinda grossed Rigby out.

But one of those guys, at the very most, _deserved_ Rigby trying to understand and accept him. One of those guys was his best friend. Rigby supposed he could learn to get used to it. For Mordecai's sake.


End file.
